


soaked to the bone (touch me)

by loonarhalo (marciee)



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, Heavy Angst, breakup angst, happy ending sort of?, i got inspired by the song touch by nct 127, mentions of haseul and hyunjin, this is really just a dramatic breakup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 19:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15178226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marciee/pseuds/loonarhalo
Summary: She felt dirty. No matter how much she scrubbed. It was the type of grime that lodged itself in deep, in your bones, refusing to be washed out. Jinsol wanted to be clean, but it was hard to wash away her touch when it left blazing trails on her skin.





	soaked to the bone (touch me)

She slid into the bathtub, the water inside stirring at her disturbance. She had filled it up to the brim, the overflowing drops tumbling over the edge with soft drips. Jinsol sat still in the water, feeling its presence blanketing her. The water felt like a second skin, soothing her anxiousness. She could feel her shoulders relax from their tense form. Jinsol submerged herself in the water, up to her neck, and let her mind wander.

\---

“It’s worse than they thought.” 

Jungeun’s stare was burning a hole through the ground. Her cool, stone-faced exterior was more infuriating than seductive at times. Her blonde hair was pulled in a tight ponytail as usual, and she was leaning on the kitchen table calmly. But Jungeun wasn’t unreadable, if you knew her like Jinsol did. Her knuckles were white from clenching the phone with one hand and the corner of the table with the other.

“What did Haseul say?” Jinsol asked softly, her eyes drifting back to the mug of tea cupped by her hands. She was sitting at the kitchen table with some peppermint tea when Jungeun emerged from their room, off the phone with Haseul. Jungeun’s usually soft brown eyes hardened and glared at the wall. “She’s scheduled for a few more tests next week.” 

Jungeun stayed silent after that, letting the silence hang between them. Jinsol searched for the words to comfort her, her eyes darting around the room in a panic. Lately, whenever she tries to say something reassuring, Jungeun takes it the wrong way. The last thing she wanted to do was make Jungeun mad. Jinsol stood up, wrapping an arm around her and rubbing her upper arm gently. “How is she holding up right now?” She asked softly, hoping it showed how much she cared.

Jungeun lowered her head, and Jinsol could feel her stiffen. “I didn’t talk to her on the phone,” Jungeun answered, before letting a soft sigh. “I could hear her start to sob in the background. Haseul hung up right after.” Jungeun trembled. Wisps of her blonde hair draped on the sides of her face, obscuring Jungeun’s eyes. 

Jinsol couldn’t think of the right words, but she stroked Jungeun’s shoulder and pressed her lips onto Jungeun’s cheek silently. She could taste the salty droplets on her cheek, drawing lines of tears down Jungeun’s face like cracks on a mask. It was rare to see Jungeun in such a state, although it wasn’t surprising as Yerim had a special place in her heart. 

Jinsol wrapped Jungeun into a hug, desperately wishing that she could express the love she felt for Jinsol in words. But Jungeun stayed wooden and unmoving, tears staining Jinsol’s shirt. No matter what she did, it never seemed like enough to buy Jinsol her own special place in Jungeun’s heart.

\---

The water that enveloped Jinsol felt like a reminder. It reminded her of how it felt to be filled up with love, how it felt to be swathed in someone’s love, how it felt to be so in love you could drown in happiness. Jinsol flicked water upwards with a lazy hand, watching as droplets flew out of the tub and drop back in with a ripple. The little things. It starts with the droplets and they add up, piling up into a pool, waiting to spill over the top.

\---

“Are you sure you don’t want any?” 

Jinsol watched as Jungeun kicked off her work shoes violently and rip off her jacket. Jungeun had started to work overtime a lot more, saving up more money for Yerim and to help relieve the burden on Haseul. Jinsol had bought groceries after her shift and cooked them a meal, knowing that Jungeun would be too tired to cook.

“Look, Jinsol, just leave me alone, okay?” Jungeun said, annoyance clear in her voice. She flung her handbag on the coffee table, sitting back on the couch. Jinsol watched with the food in front of her untouched as Jungeun flicked the TV on, ignoring Jinsol. It wasn’t a secret that Jungeun had been stressed lately, but this was the response she got for caring about her? 

“Jungeun. You have to eat.” Jinsol said, adamant. Jungeun has been eating little lately, which Jinsol could figure out was due to stress. Although she could understand why, Jinsol could see that Jungeun was not taking care of herself properly, which made Jinsol worry so much about her. Jungeun was stubborn, but Jinsol could fight fire with fire.

Jungeun glared at Jinsol, and Jinsol shot her a pointed look in return. “Jinsol, I appreciate it but get off my back. I’m fine.” Jungeun rumbled in a low voice. The TV droned on, but it was the furthest thing from Jinsol’s mind right then. That voice was the warning rumble of a volcano about to explode. It always preceded a fight, and Jinsol wasn’t going to back down today. “I know for a fact you’re not. You’re always hungry, but you haven’t been eating lately. Tell me what’s wrong, Jungeun.” Jinsol said, firm but calm, like a spray of water calming a fire.

Jungeun got up from the couch, walking over to Jinsol at the dinner table. On the surface she seemed calm, but Jinsol saw little signs nobody else would know to look for. The left corner of Jungeun’s lips was turned downwards, and her fingers were clenched into fists. She was full of fury, flames flaring out from where she was and licking Jinsol. 

“You know what’s wrong?” Jungeun said in a lowered whisper, her voice shaking and eyes stared straight into Jinsol’s. Usually Jinsol would feel unnerved, but she was standing her ground this time. “Yerim’s hospital bills aren’t cheap. Haseul barely has time to look after her, along with Yeojin. I could get laid off any moment because I keep working overtime into my lunches. I stay up worrying all night instead of sleeping. On top of that, my girlfriend keeps nagging me.” Smoking magma surged from her lips, burying Jinsol with lava. Jungeun crossed her arms, her body trembling with anger as she broke their fiercely locked eyes. 

The sound of wood scraping against their floor drew Jungeun’s attention back to Jinsol as she stood, tears of frustration filling her eyes. “Jungeun.” Jinsol managed to choke out. Jungeun’s eyes darted away, a flicker of sadness crossing her gaze. “All I wanted to do was help you. I don’t understand. I worry about you like how you worry about Yerim.” Jinsol’s voice cracked at the mention of Yerim’s name. Jungeun’s eyes turned ice cold at Yerim, and Jinsol felt a ripple of regret wash over her.

“Don’t bring Yerim into this.” Jungeun warned darkly, gray clouds clouding over her. Any remaining regret was washed away by anger and frustration. Yerim, Yerim, Yerim. The only person Jungeun seemed to care about. Jinsol felt her anger boiling under her skin, waiting to burst out. She couldn’t stop the words before they poured out of her mouth. “How can I not? She’s the only thing you talk about!” 

It came out louder than Jinsol meant for it to. Jungeun’s arms uncrossed and furled into fists. “Are you serious? You’re getting jealous over Yerim, a dying 17 year old?” Jungeun raised her voice, shaking her head incredulously. Her blonde ponytail followed mockingly. Jinsol could feel her temper spill over with each shake of her head. 

“I just care about you! Is that so hard for you to see? I’m worrying about you like a toddler!” Jinsol shouted back, eyes widening and glaring into Jungeun’s steadily. Jungeun held her burning gaze, brows furrowed and fire engine red lips forming a snarl. Shivers fluttered down Jinsol’s spine, reaching deep into her bones. She tilted her chin upwards, bringing about a storm. Jungeun’s lips pulled back, revealing her gritted teeth and her stubbornness that couldn’t be put out. 

“Stop being so fucking selfish, Jinsol!” Jungeun thundered. In an act of rage, she shoved a chair into the table with a loud crash. The venom in Jungeun’s voice dripped all over her like acid rain. Jinsol’s anger dissolved into hurt in an exhale, her eyes beginning to well with tears again. That hurt. It was useless if all she got for caring about Jungeun was a fight, like fighting a fire by drowning it with oil. 

The TV was still on, the peppy weatherman filling their silence with the forecast of storms. Jungeun’s expression melted in an instant when she noticed Jinsol’s eyes, her blazing glower fading into a weak frown. She turned away, lingering for a moment before stalking off to their bedroom without another word. The TV signal fizzled, and the screen turned black, leaving silence in the air.

Jinsol stood on the spot, frozen as she tried to blink her tears away. But Jungeun’s words stung, and Jinsol sank into her chair, crying over the uneaten food still on the table. Fat teardrops ran down her face as she let out sob after sob. It felt like standing next to an overpowering fire to watch Jungeun crumble under the stress. When Jinsol tried to help, she only got burnt when Jungeun pushed away her efforts. What did Jinsol even mean to her?

\---

Jinsol lathered herself with soap, watching the bubbles form on her skin. Her blood boiled when they fought, the steam seeping through her ears and mouth when it was too much. The water turned a murky white with the soap, foam lingering on the surface. She sighed, if only she controlled her bubbling temper better. But that wasn't just her fault. Jungeun’s once passionate blaze was now intolerable, growing more stubborn and angry, flames lashing out at Jinsol. 

\---

“I have to go.” 

Jungeun’s voice rang out in the dark, bouncing off the walls. Jinsol looked up, propping herself up to look at Jungeun. She was half asleep on her side of the bed, Jungeun perched atop the duvet on her own side. They haven’t spoken since Jungeun’s outburst. Jinsol hasn’t slept right since then, wondering what she did wrong, whether it was wrong she just wanted to care for Jungeun. 

Jungeun had been giving her the cold shoulder, coming in and out of the house without even a glance at Jinsol. She was too proud to apologize, they both knew it. Still, it tugged painfully at Jinsol’s heart whenever they spend another night sleeping with their backs to each other. She longed to touch Jungeun again, just to reignite her love for her. All it needed was a spark and Jinsol would burn up into ashes for her. 

Jungeun was still staring at her phone, the only source of light in their suffocatingly small room. Her back was facing away from Jinsol, which Jinsol could see with the faint glow of city lights outside. Jungeun had to go. 

“Why?” Jinsol still asked softly, even though she already knew why. They both knew. Her ears were craving to hear Jungeun’s voice again, soft breathy whispers that lulled Jinsol to sleep. Jungeun turned her phone off, the room darkening as the light extinguished. “Her tests came back. They’re going to admit her for a stay. Indefinitely.” Jungeun whispered, still facing away from Jinsol. Her voice sent waves of chills over her body, washing over her.

Jinsol missed her voice. She missed everything about Jungeun. “When are you going?” Jinsol could hear her own voice talking, but she felt detached from her own body. Every bone in her body was screaming at her to do something, anything. She wished she could gather herself up and touch Jungeun. She wanted to remind her of what they used to be, to breathe life back into their love and set it ablaze.

“Tomorrow.” It was that serious. A scorching word that Jinsol wanted to slip back into Jungeun’s perfect ruby red lips. Jungeun stayed where she was, unmoving like a glacier. Jinsol’s thoughts swirled together like a whirlpool, pulling her into its darkest depths. If Yerim didn’t pull through, it would break Jungeun into tiny shards of cracked ice.

Jinsol shut her eyes, hoping that sleep would steal her away from the scathing truth, if just for a night to heal her burns. “I’ve been thinking. About us.” Jungeun shifted, sliding into the covers a distance away from Jinsol. She could sense what Jungeun was going to say, a turbulent storm brewing in her stomach. Jinsol hoped she was wrong, but she was just treading water in the open ocean. She knew the truth already, deep in her bones.

“Don’t wait for me to come back.” Jungeun sounded far away. Jinsol felt like she was falling, sinking to the bottom of the ocean. It was the end. Then it struck her, like a blade of lightning, all at once. Jinsol tried to breathe, tried to keep it together, but her lips quivered. Water filled her throat, her lungs, her eyes, slowly smothering her.

Jinsol didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she dreamed of the sea swallowing her up and sinking to where bones found their final resting place. When she woke up, she found her pillow swamped in tears and an empty one next to hers. Her fingers were cold, aching for warmth but there was only a biting lack of Jungeun.

\---

She twisted in the water, ripples forming on the surface from her movement. She had only been laying there for a while, but it was growing more uncomfortable. Jinsol sat upright, watching as the ripples spread out across the tub. That storm left water splattered all over, puddles spotting the ground. Jinsol stared at the tank of water she sat in. She remembered the pools of tears, the bath of sorrow she wanted to drown in.

\---

“Stay.” 

She was slipping away in between the cracks of her fingers like drops of rain. “Please.” But she could only sit there and watch the downpour splatter the floor like blood. Jungeun stayed quiet, stuffing the last of her clothes into her luggage. She was using more force than necessary, slamming the top of her suitcase. 

Their bedroom seemed lifeless without Jungeun’s trinkets and clothes scattered around. It was just loveless, an empty shell. Jinsol swallowed. Her throat was dry. Her eyes were too, all her tears already shed. Jungeun just stood there, staring at the locked baggage. 

Maybe she wanted to submerge herself in these last moments. Maybe she wanted to linger there, stir around the dying embers. Maybe it wasn’t too late. The rain pattered on outside, the gloominess matching how Jinsol felt. Her fingers fluttered, longing to reach out for Jungeun one last time. She missed how Jungeun’s silk soft skin felt, how her smooth blonde locks felt, how warm Jungeun was. “Jungeun, touch me.” Words pour out before Jinsol can stop them, and from the look on Jungeun’s face, she could tell Jungeun couldn’t fulfill her request.

Jungeun was crying. Drips of water fell onto the duvet, the hurt clear on Jungeun’s face, Jinsol wanted to dive at her and hold her close but she stood still, frozen. Every part of her was crying out at her to move, but she didn’t. Jinsol felt chilled to the bone, a muffling coldness wrapping her tightly so she couldn’t move. Her thoughts swirled like a hurricane in her head, feelings streaming out from her lips when her eyes were too dry to. 

“I can’t remember the days without you,” Jinsol whispered, her voice airy and shaky. “Or times when I was more comfortable alone.” Jungeun turned away as she talked, her body shaking. Jinsol had run out of tears, but her heart felt like it was frozen then shattered into powder. Her eyes didn’t leave Jungeun for even a second.

“Touch me. I can remind you-” “Stop it, Jinsol.” Jungeun interrupted Jinsol in between soft sobs. Jinsol’s lips quivered, Jungeun’s display of pain making it harder for her to keep calm. “You’re making it harder to leave,” Jungeun’s words peppered Jinsol like hail. “I didn’t want any of this to happen either.” Jinsol could taste her bitterness in the air. Somehow, it hurt even more that Jungeun didn’t want to leave either.

Life was cold-hearted. Jungeun had been stronger than Jinsol was, putting on a stone-cold face when she was hurting inside. She couldn’t imagine how much it hurt to have to strangle out their love. All Jinsol did, all her stupid self did, was fan the flames whenever Jungeun tried to snuff it out as cleanly as she could. 

Jungeun sniffed, smearing at her face with her sleeve. Jungeun could swear she smelled smoke. Jungeun hauled the luggage off their bed, Jinsol’s bed now, and wiped again at her eyes. The warmth was drained out of Jinsol, her body shivering from the cold. Jinsol trailed after Jungeun as they walked through the house that they once shared. The colors that once brought it to life was gone, Jungeun stealing it all away.

They stopped at the door, where their life together started, and where it would end. Jungeun. She was dressed in sweatpants and an oversized sweater, blond hair tangled and swept into a loose ponytail. She was still as beautiful as she was on the day they met. Her face was covered by the baseball cap she wore, but Jinsol knew every curve of her face by heart, every crinkle, every detail. Yet, Jinsol still stared, trying to capture every part of the person she loved, although she knew it was impossible to contain Jungeun. Not in words, not in pictures.

Jungeun rummaged in her pocket, and Jinsol’s heart skipped a beat, wondering wildly if it was a momento for her. Her heart sank back down when she realized it was her copy of the house key. Jinsol never would’ve guessed it would end like this. They stood there for a good moment, Jungeun clenching the handle of her luggage until her knuckles were white. 

Jinsol wanted to shower her with love one last time, smothering her with her touch to bring their love back to life. She wanted to rekindle the last spark, set it blazing again and filling them with warmth. She wanted to remind Jungeun, what they were, what they could be, if only Jungeun would let her touch her. A strike like a match to a matchbox, like they should be. 

“Goodbye, Jinsol.” Jungeun said, snuffing out the last ember with those two words. It would just burn them more if they kept the fire alight. As much as Jinsol didn’t want to admit Jungeun was right, she was. Jinsol would never have thought Jungeun’s last words to her would be so frigid, so dispassionate, so unlike her. Jungeun opened the door, pulling her suitcase and their past life together with her silently. A freezing draft waltzed in, grabbing Jinsol at the legs. Jinsol stood there, staring at the door as it shuts with a final slam.

Jinsol was so tired, so cold. She sank to the floor, the last of her tears trickling out. She felt drained of energy. The last of her will left when Jungeun did. Jinsol’s body was numb, a frost covering her from her fingertips to her toes. She stared up at the snow white ceiling, a void that didn’t offer her any of the warmth that she was searching for. Nothing was like Jungeun’s touch, searing Jinsol’s skin with charring marks wherever she touched and setting her aflame with passion. Jinsol never wanted to touch anything again. 

\---

Jinsol yanked the plug out of the drain, watching as the water swirled away with a gurgle. A mini whirlpool of opaque white water. Jinsol examined her fingers, finding it all wrinkled from being in the water for so long. It was pruned, its creases reminding her of a wrung out towel. The last of the water crept away in the drain, and Jinsol was left sitting in an empty bathtub. It was freezing cold, all the warmth drained away from her body.

Jinsol wondered if she should stay there. She felt as cold on the surface as she did inside. She sighed, looking at her shriveled fingers. It wouldn’t do her any good to catch a cold, it would only make other people worry about her. Jinsol grabbed the nearby towel and dried herself, walking into her room.

It was just hers now. Jungeun had left most of her things in her frenzy to pack as fast as possible, which was typical of her. Jinsol had smashed anything she found at first, but then regretted it, so she resorted to stashing Jungeun’s things in an unused cabinet in her kitchen. 

Jinsol put on whatever was closest to her and glanced at her phone to see Hyunjin had called her again. She had been calling constantly after the breakup. It was nice of her, but Jinsol just wanted to be alone. If she couldn’t be with Jungeun, she didn’t want to be with anyone. 

Jinsol sat at her desk, looking out the window. The skies were gloomy, but at least there wasn’t any rain today. She reached for her notebook and a pen, something she found herself doing more often since Jungeun left, but nothing came to mind then. Jinsol flipped back to the first page, full of old doodles of Jungeun, back when they had just started dating. 

A flicker of hurt woke in Jinsol, and she tore out the page, crumpling it and throwing it on the ground. Jinsol sighed when she realized what she did. That was childish. She crouched down on the ground to pick it up when she noticed the edge of a shoebox peeking out from under her bed.

Jinsol picked it up carefully. She couldn’t believe she forgot about this. Just thinking about the contents made her want to sob again, but she collected herself. She would open it again, one last time. Jinsol grasped the modest looking lid with both hands, lifting it up.

It was a stack of papers. It was the good type of parchment paper as well, which Jinsol could appreciate. She picked up the first one, written in black ink and messy cursive. “Dear Jinsol,” Jinsol read out loud. “I love you.” There were more words that followed, but most of them were scratched out haphazardly, or replaced with several synonyms. Although Jungeun didn’t wax poetic often, her words were genuine in the letters. 

Jinsol had a bit of fun going through the letters, reading the often strange comparisons of her to food. It was all fun and games until she reached the last one. It was the most recent one, dated before Yerim first got sick. It was the last time Jinsol could remember Jungeun being happy, much less romantic.

Her last letter didn't vary much from the others, but it only reminded Jinsol just how fast things can change. It also reminded Jinsol why Jungeun wrote all these letters. Jungeun wasn’t a particularly good writer, nor was she enthusiastic, but she knew Jinsol loved them, so she wrote. 

Her heart started to hurt again with a throbbing heartache. Just when she thought she was healing, she had to find this cursed box. She wanted nothing more than to see it as a pile of ashes. Jinsol stood up from her chair, bringing the box to the kitchen. She couldn’t keep this around. 

Jinsol rummaged in the back of one of the kitchen drawers, pulling out an old lighter. It belonged to Jungeun, back when she smoked, which was a long while ago. She quit for Jinsol. Jinsol clicked the lighter, hoping it still worked. 

It burst into life, wavering for a moment before putting itself out. Perfect. Jinsol cleared out a space on the floor. She did it as quick as a breeze, knowing that if she stalled, she would regret it. Jinsol planted the shoebox carefully in the middle of the floor, the tinder waiting patiently for her. 

The flame flickered on again, and Jinsol exhaled. This was it. The last flicker of Jinsol’s love for Jungeun. She touched the fire to the corner of the box, making sure it caught before letting the lighter fizzle out. She watched as the letters caught ablaze, flames licking up the paper hungrily. 

Jinsol fought the urge to cry. Her most precious love letters were being sent up in smoke, and some part of her desperately wanted to dampen out the fire right there and save what was left. But Jinsol sat still, like a rock in the midst of running water. She was stronger than that. 

The fire burned eagerly, filling the room up with gray smoke. Luckily, the smoke alarm broke weeks ago and Jinsol couldn’t be bothered to fix it. Jinsol stared at the red and orange flames, sighing one last time. All the letters must be burnt by now. Jinsol didn’t feel as sad anymore, watching the ravenous fire eating up the tinder happily. 

Some part of her even felt satisfied, watching the flame die out slowly. Catharsis. Cathartic waves flooded her when the letters were reduced to smoke and ashes. The last blaze of Jinsol’s love has been snuffed with a hiss, laying like ashes, mirroring the pile in front of Jinsol. 

Jinsol smiled, the first time in a long while where it wasn’t forced. Burning the letters made Jinsol feel purified in a way that a long soak didn’t. There was a renewed sense of freedom in her, all of her anger and sadness washed away from even the cores of her bones. She was clean again.

**Author's Note:**

> hey!! im marcie and this is my first loona fic! ive been in love with loona ever since jinsoul's debut, but i havent had the time to write fic for it until now haha i love kimsoul or jinlip theyre my otp (maybe because i double bias them hmmm) and im so happy to write angst for them hehe
> 
> if you follow my other account marciee (mostly my old pentagon fics lol) then youll know angst is my specialty lol (i promise! that! the finale of gbgb will! come out by the end of july!)
> 
> find me on twitter as @nochilluniverse (should i make a separate account for loona?) im always down to make mutuals!
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this angsty little fic, please leave a kudos or a comment or even a bookmark if you did! have a wonderful day~ <3


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